


Cacoethes

by ainchase



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Knight Quest (Final Fantasy XIV) Spoilers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Anti-Hero, Fluff and Angst, Ishgard (Final Fantasy XIV), Sibling Rivalry, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:37:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ainchase/pseuds/ainchase
Summary: CACOETHES ー (n.) cac·o·e·thesan irresistible urge to do something inadvisable.Since she was a child, Hin'a Lo'vehl has wanted nothing more than to be a Temple Knight of Ishgard, serving the Holy city of Halone and protecting it from dragons. Once she is finally sworn into service and adapts to life in the towering city, strange occurrences leave her questioning her loyalty to the Holy See and whether the rule of Archbishop Thordon VII and the Temple Knights is as honest as she formerly believed.As if things could not get any worse, she becomes drawn to a dark and powerful energy residing within a greatsword that seems to call to her. While undergoing internal challenges and questions regarding what she considered to be her life purpose, she finds the sword also leads her to a dark and mysterious au ra man that only seems to complicate life for her further.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this will be my first fic ever posted on ao3. I've read fic for as long as I can remember and have always wanted to flesh out my character in FFXIV's backstory and well... here we are. i am shamelessly writing fanfic about my character and sidurgu orl, so take that as you will. i understand oc fics aren't as popular but i really just wanted to explore my character, her thoughts and self and how she changes over the course of her story on my own, but i would love if others want to join me in this too. there will be background ships, alternating narrators, and plenty of good romantic sidurgu content but keep in mind, this will be slow burn. slow slow burn. the slowest of burns. 
> 
> anyway, kudos, comment, whatever if you like and perhaps i'll keep this thing going.

It was sunset. The sky glared at her, a mixture of bright blood reds blended into deep violets, purples, yellows. She inhaled once, shakily. The long intervals between her hard, heavy heartbeats left a sick and empty feeling within her, as if had she opened her mouth her soul would slip out, and wisp away in the wind. For this reason, as fear enraptured her, her lips were thin fixed lines, inescapable. Regardless of effort, her mouth was caked in a dry, cemented blood of an unknown source rendering any effort to part her lips futile. She took small, staggering breaths through her nose before she realized for every quantity of air she inhaled was twice as much blood. Her cheek pulsed with a pain that sent her mind spinning when she focused on it, so she didn't. She saw only glimpses of the gloaming skyーbeautiful, heavenly glimpses, before a shadow obstructed her vision. She was wracked then, with such a heavy despair she swore the weight of the world pressed against her chest, pushing her deeper and deeper into blackness. She thought that if she closed her eyes she could escape it. Tears welled and hung on her eyelashes and she at last opened her mouth to gasp for airーanother, fruitless actionーas blood poured in, choking her. All senses became dulled as the darkness of the shadow the figure casted upon her swallowed her whole, encroaching upon the tiny, fleeting warmth the sunset granted her. The last thing she remembered was the taste of copper and a frantic voice ringing in her ears. Then nothing.

 

-

 

Hin'a slept with the chocobos that night. Although such an occurrence wasn’t particularly uncommon, when their mother awoke them before dawn her face was lined with worry. Hin’a shifted half-heartedly, peering through sleep-heavy eyes. With a sigh she kneeled before the huddled miqo’te, shaking her head gently.

"You must leave now if you wish to be there before noon, dear."

With a loud groan, the short-haired miqo’te shoved her face further into the soft warmth of her chocobo's yellow feathers, earning a low sqwuak from the animal and a grunt from her mother.

"Get going, your father's waiting for you outside. That means you too, Sunny," She lightly nudged the chocobo with her foot before rising to leave the stables, disappearing into the beginnings of the light of dawn.

All at once, the feelings Hin’a had been holding back came crashing upon her, wave after wave of realization that today was really, _the_ day. Her heart pounded with fear, anxiety, excitement, happiness. It was enough to leave her paralyzed for a moment or two before her chocobo himself nudged his beak below her head, shoving the sluggish miqo'te away from it. She let out a groan of defeat before getting up and leaving the stables, though not without a parting glare to the animal. She could feel her chocobo's amusement even as she left, and she’d be lieing if she said it hadn’t softened her spiking nerves.

She had packed all her belongings the night before, and slung a leather knapsack holding her journal, some stationery and snacks for the road over her shoulder lightly. Her chocobo Sunshine had readied himself, standing braced to be saddled and equipped with the rest of Hin'a's luggage. As she made short work of her chocobos gear, adjusting the straps and securing her belongings, she noticed a flash of orange from the corner of her eye. She tilted her head to see her brother's cold gaze resting upon her.

"Es'fyr," She greeted, securing the last of the gear. The sun had only just begun rising now, and she took a moment to examine her brother's slim and poised composure. He stood straight in his sleeping robes, orange hair pleasantly fluffed and eyes hardly open due to the early hours. He was noticeably disheveled, despite his posture and expression. Nonetheless, he had come to see her off. Hin'a moved toward him, blinking blankly at his strangely resentful look. It softened quickly upon her approach.

"Sister," He returned, resting his arms at his side before opening them to her. She hurried to return the gesture, wrapping him in her tight embrace.

"Be safe," He whispered into her hair, eyelashes brushing against her neck. "Write me often. Don’t cause too much trouble," He pulled away, a look of sadness on his face, "Though I’m sure you shall be exiled from Ishgard once more in due time."

Hin'a barked a laugh, before shaking her head with resolve.

"They’ll make a good soldier out of me," She assured, grinning widely. Es’fyr rolled his eyes before motioning to their mother who stood a few yalms away. Hin’a approached her mother earnestly, gazing at her with a confidence and vigor only she could replicate. Her mother stifled a laugh.

“You look ridiculous,” She said, pulling her into a tight hug. Hin’a gently rubbed her mother’s back, feeling her begin to cry into her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine, mother, I promise,” Hin’a assured, squeezing her.

“Don’t forget to write, Hin’a, swear it.”

“I won’t, I won’tー I swear it,” She pulled back to give her mother a final lop-sided grin before turning away, knowing if she stayed any longer she’d break into tears herself. Then, she leapt onto an unsuspecting Sunshine who shrieked in surprise and erupted into a sprint, running past her father and straight out the massive archway that led into Tailfeather, laughter echoing in the sleeping city as she departed. Her father soon followed, and Hin’a’s mother and brother stood close to one another, watching until she faded into an abstract shape highlighted only by the rising sun.

In Tailfeather, Ishgardian travelersーalthough uncommonー were still the majority of folks that ventured to the quaint town, just west of the Coerthas Northern Highlands and a proud community of traders, ranchers and farmers. The small village was the first and only settlement before one would embark across all of the Dravanian forelands, the wide-open valley littered only with ruins from a time long before Hin'a's, riddled with the evidence of a prosperous and large civilization. One, some hypothesized, with humans and dragons alike.

The people of Tailfeather have a most interesting relationship to the wild chocobos that inhabit their forest; for a long time, poachers were common, merely killing chocobos for their pelt and meat. However, over time, ranchers found a foothold within the town, and made efforts to catch and domesticate these chocobos: breeding and soothing the wildness with all the faith in the world in their success, and they would have it. Now, Tailfeather was a proud center for chocobo ranching, many a traveler finding relief that the majority of domestic chocobos were produced here, in their natural habitat, only a mile or so from where their ancestors lived long ago. This, along with the excellent farming conditions, is what drew Hina's parents Milo and I'nane, a hunter and an artisan, to settling in the tiny town. The two had dreams of starting their own business and coveting a mutualistic relationship with nature. And that's what they did.   
In Tailfeather, folks understood the importance of chocobos to their economy, and poachers and hunters of the creature were fairly frowned upon. Killings of the animal became rarer and rarer by the year, and one could know this because Hin'a was keeping track. As a younger teen she did everything in her power to control the population of wild chocobo in the Chocobo Forest east of their home, unafraid of confronting irresponsible hunters and badgering them into submission. Her efforts have definitely proven fruitful over the years, and have earned her quite a reputation among the Tailfeather locals.

  
But, aside from a lifelong passion for chocobos, there stirred within the young miqo'te a hunger for adventure, and a fascination with the ruins their home was surrounded by. Nestled within the meeting of two rivers, Tailfeather was at the base of the valley encircled by the great peaks of mountains guarding passage to the Churning Mists, the home of the dragons. Hin'a, at first, didn't fear dragons. She actually garnered a strong respect for them, never really sensing aggression or fear when she spotted them in the wilds to the west. However, as time went on, she latched onto the stories her father told her of Ishgard, and the thousand-year war between Ishgardians and the massive, treacherous creatures. It was all so fascinating to her, and it wasn't long before Hin'a was begging to visit the fabled city and meet a real Temple Knight in person.   
And so she did.   
  
Often traveling between Ishgard and Tailfeather to deliver domesticated chocobos, Hin'a's father became very familiar with Ishgard's populace and legends. On a clear day from the edge of the Forelands, Hin'a could spy a tiny glimpse of the Falcon's Nest, a place her father explained was where he was permitted to enter each visit. Fascinated with her father's stories of his trek to and from Ishgardー the brutal winds and icy slopes, the vast and sleek white terrain that stood stark against a blue horizon, the massive tusked creatures than roamed free, she hungered to accompany him. Then she heard of the knights that protected Ishgard.

  
_"It's like a palace, the Temple Knights protect and watch over_ it's _citizens and the royalty that live within the city."_ He once described, waving his hands around comically.

  
_"Protect? What from?"_ Hin'a squeaked between gaps in her teeth, tugging eagerly at her father’s pants legs. With a bellowing laugh he’d scoop her up and lift her in the sky, in the direction of the other sky-reaching structure Hin'a often pondered of.

  
_"There, the dragon's nest. The big creatures that pass above our village ever so often, they live there."_ For a while she examined the tower before nodding to be put down.

  
_"Are they evil?"_ Hin'a asked, still staring through the trees at the structure.

  
_"Ishgard and Dravanians have been at war for as long as time."_ Her father spoke, resting his palm on her head. _"The dragons want to kill mankind. Papa doesn't want you near them either."_ Hin'a blinked before narrowing her eyes and pushing her head into his hand in a fit to shove him off.

  
_"I'm no man!"_ She shouted. With another laugh her father nodded and propped her on his knee, ruffling her hair. She growled.

  
_"Doesn't matter if you're no man. Although we're_ miqo'te _Hin'a, we're the same size and shape as_ human _. Dragons won't taste the difference...!"_ He said lowering his face and snapping his jaws in front of her face. She squealed and howled with laughter before leaping off and running from him, her father quick behind.

The tales her father spun sufficed for long, at least until she was around eight. Her fathers trips to Ishgard became annual, when he explained their summer festival became the ideal time to make the excursion with his best crop. As one of the very few non-elezen merchants to be allowed entrance to Ishgard, I'nane had been honing connections with those interested in chocobo sports and shows, which consisted of a great number of Ishgardian rich. Some were repulsed by his race and chocobos, insisting surely they were not purely bred enough for their taking, and lacked the abilities the Ishgardian-caged chocobos inherited. Others however, respected the man's endurance and grit, admiring a humble man's hard work. And hard work he did, traveling between the two places with anywhere from 3 to 10 chocobos and his own master crafted lumber among them. The stablehands in Ishgard were both envious and enamored with the way Hin'a's families chocobos behaved: polite, handsome, and very strong. Left with little space to roam in the city, Ishgardian chocobos were often restless and aggressive. So, I'nane made a name for himself in Ishgard over the years with the hopes that when he believed it safe enough, he could bring along his family for a visit.  
  
That visit couldn't have come soon enough.   
  
When Hin'a was eight, Milo, Hin'a, Es'fyr (Hin'a's younger, and intolerable brother) and I'nane made the trip to Ishgard. This was and would remembered as the happiest time of her life for years to come. I'nane had befriended a man fascinated with chocobos and their nature who, upon learning of I'nane's family in Tailfeather, insisted they visit and stay in his residency for the summer festival. His name was Itrix Sylveret, a sadly retired but notable Temple Knight and member of a royal clan. He had a son, a year Hin'a's senior, who's love for chocobos had actually prompted his father to visit the stables where I'nane was working. His son's name was Marquelorn and he was destined to fall among the ranks of the Temple Knights, as his father had before him. Hin'a and Marquelorn were fast friends. As children enamored by the duty of a Temple Knight, they'd often pretend to be knights themselves and try to assist any frequenters of the summer festival as much as they could. They'd play dragon and heros, often depending on Es'fyr to play the part of the dragon while they bat at him with fake swords. Hin'a's family stayed in the grand quarters' of the Sylveret house for about two weeks each summer, times of which Hin'a greatly treasured until she reached around the age of twelve.

Although Marquelorn's family (which consisted of his parents, aunt, uncle and two baby cousins) were not particularly prejudiced against Hin'a or his father, Hin'a began to notice the brief looks of scorn cast upon her the longer she spent in the marketplace and among native Ishgardian townfolk. Several elezen children her age began spreading rumors about her, blatantly ignoring and avoiding her despite attempts at confrontation.  
  
News of these aggressions eventually reached the parents of the children, and then, incidentally, a community council Itrix served on. Mortified and angry but humiliated to have housed someone with such awful rumors spread about her, Itrix attempted to diffuse the situation but to no avail. The council demanded that he no longer allow Hin'a and her family residence in his home, and the vote was unanimous. A mournful Itrix broke the news to I'nane, and an unsuspecting Hin'a overheard their conversation. Astonished and heartbroken, Hin'a revealed the news to Marquelorn and he swore to her they'd find a way to allow her to return.   
  
At that moment, her entire world was Marquelorn's warmth around her, his fierce grip holding her tighter than she'd ever been held before. She was bawling into his shoulder, nose running as sobs shook her form uncontrollably.   
_"Let's run away,"_ Marquelorn said, suddenly, pulling away to look at her. His small hands wrapped around her equally small hands. His gaze was so hard she felt it pierce her soul. She wouldn't forget the way he looked at her that night. Vengeful, furious, and determined. She sniffled between breaths before nodding. And the two were off.   
  
They attempted hiding in the Brume for two days. But, after a city-wide search was summoned, a Temple Knight found the pair hunched over a small fire pit beneath a staircase in the Brume, and were plucked easily from their hideout and returned to four furious parents.   
  
Although negotiations for Hin'a's return would be developed through hers and Marquelorn’s correspondence over the next five years, at that moment the exile Hin'a was facing was absolute, the ride home treacherous and miserable, and the next few weeks melancholy, lonely, and somber. On the second day of Hin'a's third week back, however, a messenger arrived with a letter addressed to her. Within the letter was a small, folded note, of which she promptly unfolded and read. The following words were written in messy, unkempt ink:   
  
_"You'll come back, I promise"_   
  
And suddenly the cold, black coals of hope that laid lifeless within Hin'a's chest burst to life, a massive and prosperous fire dancing within her, her life force. Her _meaning_. She spent the next five years tending to this fire, feeding to it the letters she exchanged with Marquelorn, tending to it patiently and with diligence.   
  
And today was the day she'd confront those feelings, the day those letters lead up to. The beginning of her training to be a Temple Knight.


	2. Acclimation

The higher the sun rose in the sky, the harder Hin’a’s heart pounded within her chest. Each stride her chocobo took was one step closer to her fate. Her father, riding alongside her with several planks of lumber equipped upon his chocobos’ back, noticed the tension emanating off her in waves.

“We’re almost there,” He said, breaking the silence. Hin’a didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she watched the tower of the Falcon’s Nest come into full view. The sun, now, was a glowing mass hanging limp in a cloudless sky, a quiet promise. Hin’a took a moment to revel in the feeling of the sunlight upon her face, breathing in through her nose the cold air and exhaling it in a plume of white. It was the warmth of the sun upon her cheeks that encouraged her to go on in times like these; it’s ceaseless recurrence of rising and sinking within the sky a sort of promise to her, of eternal beginnings. After a long moment of silence and collection, she turned her face to give her father a reassuring smile. He smiled back, albeit apprehensively, as he continued onwards.

They reached the the Falcon’s Nest at sunhigh, Hin’a’s eyes glittering with interest at each Temple Knight that passed her by. A man posted by the gates leading to what Hin’a assumed was the airship landing noticed I’nane’s arrival and approached with conviction upon spying the man’s pointed ears. This did not go unnoticed by the miqo'te, and he grunted in greeting. The beginnings of a smirk inched across Hin’a’s face before the man’s eyes peered inquisitively at her. She merely clamped her mouth shut, sliding off her chocobo and immediately dipping into a bow. I’nane quirked an eyebrow at her, shaking his head at the man before them prior to speaking.

“Darwin, this is my daughter Hin’a. Hin’a, Darwin.”

The midlander man grinned widely down at Hin’a, bowing his head slightly to her presence. Then, his eyes flickered back to I’nane’s.

“I’m sure you are aware tongues are wagging about her return, ser. It may have been years, butー”

“Darwin, I thought I made myself clear on this topic in our correspondence,” I’nane asserted, the hairs on his ears prickling in agitation. Hin’a, too, startled, lowering her gaze to the ground.

“Of course I’nane, I understand. I was simply, well, uh… it will not be an issue. Right, milady?” There was a hint of a challenge behind his eyes. Hin’a growled lowly.

“If I may be so bold, ser, they were _rumors_ . I had neverーand certainly, _will never_ , steal from the townspeople of Ishgard. You must understand as well as I do the honor I seek to restore in dedicating myself to the Temple Knights.” She could tell her cold gaze pierced the man as his eyes widened slightly and his posture stiffened. He coughed under his breath before pointedly avoiding her gaze by resting it upon her father. She did everything in her power not to howl with laughter at how easily the man shrunk beneath her words.

“Very well,” He motioned for several other knights to help release the lumber from the back of I’nane’s chocobo, as they loaded it onto the airship. Hin’a bit back a retort as they moved toward her own baggage, undoing the reinforcements on the chocobo and making for the ship once again. She clung to her knapsack and approached the airship, before realizing her father was not following. He met her gaze with a bitter smile before opening his arms to her. She grasped at him tightly, tears wetting the corners of her eyes. Afraid of being seen so sentimental in front of men she was bound to see rather frequently, she collected herself before pulling away.

“I’ll see you soon my dear,” I’nane whispered, before rustling her hair. She grunted at the affection, ripping her head away from him with a choked laugh. Her eyebrows pulled taught and a smile shone wide on her face as she looked at her father, nodding firmly to him before marching back toward the airship.

Hin’a didn’t dare open her mouth to bid her father farewell out of fear her voice may crack.

 

-

 

The ship flew diligently above the nearly blinding glacier of Snowcloak below them, gliding toward the ever luminous and vivid structure perched upon Abalathia’s Spine. She bathed in the glory its sight had upon her, eyes closing to relish in the gentle breeze that clashed with the heat of the sun upon her skin and the resurgence of love that bloomed within her chest. She couldn’t help the wide smile that refused to leave her expression as she drank in the sight of the Holy See, the absolute detail she could observe more and better than any of her memories of it. The ship urged forward hesitantly before docking on the landing, the entrance opening to prompt several knights in the unloading effort. Hin’a grabbed the little luggage she had and whisked her way off the boat, rushing toward the entrance to the city.

She pushed past the small steel gate and wiped her eyes across the horizon, searching intently for any hint of familiarity. Suddenly, in the distance, she noticed a small group of Temple Knights gathered in a circle. Only then did she realize how one of those knights’ eyes bore into her with an intensity she wasn’t sure she could rival. After a second she finally recognized his face.

Her childhood best friend.

Marquelorn was all angles now; his shoulders wide and tapered, figure forming a slim but built shape that thinned to the legs, cheekbones high and defined among sharp, hawk-like hazel eyes. His thin lips were pulled down in a frown at Hin'a's gawking, before realization washed over his features and he beamed like the sun. He strode over to the miqo'te, long limbs gliding without a semblance of fear of what his companions might think of his interest in a miqo'te, a stranger to Ishgard. Her anxiety quelled immediately as she drank in his delighted expression as an antidote and flashed a wolf-toothed smile. Once he met her, he kneeled before her. If she had thought his prior smile at her couldn't be any wider, it was now.

"My friend," He began, opening his arms in greeting. Hin'a could feel the burning gaze of the group of elezen Marquelorn departed from and she did her best to ignore it. She wrapped her arms around him, not realizing how much she desired his companionship until she felt it once more with his long arms enveloping her in his prize-winning embraces. She pulled back to smile at him again, basking in the radiance of his genuine warmth toward her. He chuckled lightly.  
  
"It seems a century may have passed without a trace," He continued, moving to stand back up. He leaned back, surveying her with interest. She crossed her arms over her chest, smirking at him all the same. It would have been 5 years now since their last meeting, one she had mulled over and over for years in grief and one she promptly put to the grave today after seeing him in the glory of his growth. They had spent that lost time exchanging letters, though they were few and far in between, as their individual lives continued without pause, and without those sacred summers Hin'a held so dear. They shared a few seconds simply regarding one another's changes before Hin'a opened her hand to him, his own coming to clasp hers in a firm shake.  
  
"You're grown quite a bit," She quipped, recollecting how he had only just caught up to her in height the last time she saw him. His features colored slightly at the comment, and he scoffed.  
  
"Obviously," He grunted, glowering down at her, "I told you before you were doomed to tremble in my shadow! I hope you enjoyed your few years of height over me, I will not be shrinking any time soon," Hin'a stifled a laugh before him, slightly shaking her head.  
  
"I did," She admitted, shrugging, "Regardless, I still have Es'fyr to tease,"  
  
"No luck for him, eh? It's unfathomable, the troublesome life he must lead with a scoundrel of a sister like you,"  
  
She bellowed with laughter. _I missed you_ , she thought, eyes sparkling with a newfound vigor revitalized by the connection she managed to maintain with her childhood friend, her dragon-slaying partner, her brother-in-arms. He seemed to reflect her fondness. _I missed this._ __  
  
"We did it, didn't we?" She murmured, eyes rising to regard the looming structures of Ishgard in full-view, relishing in their light, the reflection of the sun casting upon them a kind of divine glow.  
  
"Come, you must meet our overseer. You might as well become acquainted with some of the other knights as well," He turned on his heel and motioned for her to follow him back to the small circle of elezen he emerged from, and she prickled with unease. She followed carefully, lowering her eyes from the tall shapes of the other elezen before they approached.  
  
"Who's this?" One immediately questioned, eyeing Hin'a with a cool skepticism. Hin'a bowed, perhaps a bit too deeply, before straightening, her eyes finally climbing their forms to meet theirs.  
  
"Hin'a Lo'vehl. My father is I'nane Rustam, one of Ishgard's primary... chocobo providers," She stated, feeling a bit bashful about her father's career and essentially, her 'in' to Ishgard. Marquelorn beamed down at her, hands perched upon his hips.  
  
"I've known Hin'a since we were children," He began, much to Hin'a's dismay. Her face heated with embarrassment and she cracked a crooked smile, her hand coming to rub the back of her neck sheepishly. After some quick introductions, and a few intrusive questions, the group departed from the airship landing and descended the steep, winding stairs down to Foundation, excitement and apprehension present in Hin'a's every step. It had been half a decade since she had been here: one spent imagining this moment nearly every second of that time.  
  
It was a few hours past mid-day now, the city well awake and alive. Every inch of her ached to explore the city to its full extent now that she was finally here, grown and free to do as she pleased. Still she resisted, glued to Marquelorn's side. The cold air breathed past her and through her, whistling as it collided with the many structures of Ishgard, a quiet humming ringing through the air. The hurried manner of the Ishgardian's enveloped her as they moved further into Saint Valeroyant Forum, making for the Congregation of our Knights Most Heavenly with purpose.  
  
Hin'a knew little about the individual who would serve as her mentor for the coming year of her training. What she did know she learned from Marquelorn, who's opinion and perspective was, despite his genuine morality and humility, _biased_. As a member of a well-known and quaintly royal family, Marquelorn Sylveret was a name most Ishgardian's were familiar with. Little did they know, however, who exactly this man was, one Hin'a had known and grown with personally since they were mere children. Behind his charming aura and the allure of his stable and relaxed features was the mindful, quiet heart of a boy who dreamed of being a knight. There was a hunger inside Hin'a, a want to see how Marquelorn had changed over her absenceー if he had changed. But her interest now laid solely with her duty, and her heart beat faster every step they took toward the building that loomed before them. She took, now, the steps every temple knight before her had taken once. She was careful not to appear as stricken by this as she felt inside.  
  
Over their correspondence, Hin'a had a small idea of what her mentor would be like. Without many descriptors aside from 'strict', 'pompous' and 'sadistic', Hin'a knew next to nothing about the man. Judging from Marquelorn's stiff composure as they entered the large, swinging doors, she understood the man she would soon meet would be a force to be reckoned with. His eyes darted down at her for a brief second and he offered an encouragement in the form of a small smile before looking up once more, distinguished and collected. Hin'a did her best to replicate it.  
  
Among the four elezen and three hyur of their group, Hin'a stood as tall as possible, chin lifted and form steeled. Marquelorn took the lead and approached a hyur that stood conversing with another man, an elezen with dark hair. After further examination, she recognized the man to be none other than Aymeric de Borel, who upon noticing their arrival, nodded stiffly in their direction and exchanged departing words with the hyur before him. Hin'a felt entranced as the elezen turned to face their group of meager trainees, his blue eyes overcome with a glint of interest as they fell upon Hin'a, before moving to peer inquisitively at Marquelorn and the rest of their group. He strode past them with ease, arms clasped behind his back before disappearing from her frontal view. It took everything in her to resist the urge to watch him go, her gaze instead fixed upon the man the Lord Commander was conversing with only a moment ago.  
  
He was short in stature with broad shoulders and clad in distinguished Ishgardian Knight armor, his face squared by a sharp jawline and heavy eyebrows. Those heavy brows shadowed the scowling green-hued eyes of a face uninterested and worn. Hin'a examined him for only a second longer before his eyes had suddenly snapped upwards, latching onto Hin'a's.  
  
"Ser-" Marquelorn started. The man raised his hand. He slowly made his way around the table and stood before the group, his arms wrapping around his back as he looked upon them with a gaze that seemed to electrify the air. Hin'a noticed Marquelorn's hand turn to a fist at his side. She took deep, steady breaths, her own gaze unfaltering. His eyes finally settled once again on Hin'a, a brow quirking in interest.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" He asked, calmly. Hin'a didn't skip a beat in her reply.  
  
"Hin'a Lo'vehl, ser." She said, her voice resolute. His eyebrows narrowed further. Marquelorn opened his mouth to speak once more,  
  
"Carter, ser, if I may-"  
  
"No, you may not."  
  
Although Hin'a maintained her composure, she felt if they did not end this exchange soon, she may collapse under the weight of his oppressive presence.  
  
"Mi'qote..." He muttered. "What in Halone's name are you doing here?"  
  
"I was permitted to enroll in training to be a Temple Knight, ser, and I intend to be," She said, swallowing.  
  
"Obviously, but... why?"  
  
"My father is I'nane Rustam, one of Ishgard's few outside merchants," She blinked, continuing with quiet determination, "From Tailfeather, ser."  
  
After a long pause and a heavy, burning glare, the man sniffed, straightening up.  
  
"Sylveret, show them to their quarters. Training begins tonight."  
  
The sudden smirk that contorted her new mentor's face caused her far more unease than Hin'a would have liked to admit.

  
  
-

  
  
They departed at sunset on several chocobos. Cynric Carter, Hin'a had learned, was a punishing man. After she stored her belongings in the bunker she would share with the rest of the trainees, another training knight bursted into the room, panting.  
  
"Gather your necessities at once," He said, "We leave at sunset."  
  
Hin'a packed lightly a bag she could sling over her shoulder, and departed, fear tucked behind her collected composure. Marquelorn stayed at her side, his anticipation clear on his face. They met Ser Carter and the others at the stables, and promptly left on chocoboback.

After the short airship ride, it was nearly dusk.

The sinking sun peeked beyond the high ranges of mountains in the distant Coerthas western highlands, providing Hin'a with enough light to carefully take in where they were headed. The group had just moved through the sparsely populated Falcon's Nest, merchants and other Temple Knights' migrating toward their collective dining hall and quarters. Marquelorn was perched upon a larger chocobo fit to support his weight beside her, his hair tousled and eyes glassy with the cold that settled in the air as the sun's brief light waned. Blue hues overtook Hin'a's eyesight as they followed a path down to the river, the world around them painted white. Hin'a had taken such a path many times, in fact, every summer commute to the shining city.

Hin’a still had to settle the excitement she felt at being by Marquelorn’s side again, at how easy and natural his companionship felt, at how it was thanks to him she was here today. She sat straight and with confidence, despite the cold dusk air that assaulted all her senses, her ears flicking with discomfort. She cast Marquelorn a brief, questioning glance, of which he returned with a roll of his eyes and a sigh.

"Could be anything," He muttered.  
  
The longer they trod on a quiet and suffocating atmosphere of trepidation fell upon the group, the only sounds filling the air the howling of the wind and the crunching of snow as they migrated further.  
  
Finally, as if they could not go on any longer, Hin'a spied a flickering light in the distance.  
  
Carter had remained completely silent the entire trip, merely leading the group with a complete and utter indifference. He led them further to the light. They urged forward now with a burning determination, many of the soldiers visibly cold. Hin'a felt a tiny burst of pride in her tolerance to this weather, though she knew she was at an advantage because of the thick fur of her tail she had wrapped around her side. Aside from that, she seemed to simply be a natural furnace as opposed to her brother and Marquelorn, who she knew were individuals with a weak resistance to cold. If she listened closely, she could feel the harmony of her companions' teeth chattering.  
  
The light morphed into several lights, the dark shapes of people in the distance crouching over what appeared to be fire pits at a camp seen up ahead.  
  
"This is The Convictory, and where you shall be stationed for the next two weeks."  
  
A silence colder than the entire ride there fell upon the group like a stone. Hin'a blinked, eyebrows furrowed. _Here? Seriously?_ __  
  
Marquelorn released an anguished groan. Carter's snake-like eyes immediately darted to him, staring daggers. The other knights were all noticeably unhappy; fear, agony, and even some grief forming their features.  
  
"Do you intend to thin us out, ser? Place bets on which of us first dies to _hypothermia_ ?" One large elezen man snarked, agitation rippling in his voice. “Or perhaps you want us skewered in the night by the lowborn scum that litter this place…” His arms were folded over his chest and Hin'a could see that he was definitely shivering. Carter was unaffected by the man's retort, and snorted.  
  
"If you cannot survive two weeks here, I'd be wise not to trust you with anything more than a wooden sword, _recruit_."  
  
The other Elezen quieted, settling on simply shifting uncomfortably.  
  
"We've a shortage of Temple Knights at this base, and far too many responsibilities for the regular residents of the encampment. Aside from that, your first mission takes place here, and if you mean to serve Ishgard among the Temple Knights you must become acclimated."  
  
" _Regular_ residents?" Another knight blurted, disbelief and confusion apparent upon her face. How could this fort stand and function regularly?

"You heard me. Here is one now," Carter replied, swinging his leg over the side of the chocobo and dismounting, approaching the chocobokeep and the woman that stood beside him.  
  
"Milord," The elezen woman greeted, bowing slightly. She was a tall but quaint woman, her face a pleasant beauty Hin'a appreciated. A sight for sore eyes. Her grey-brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, any skin below her chin covered in a thick coat made of wool and hide meant to withstand the temperatures of the highlands. Hin'a felt a pang of jealousy for the coat, itching to curl within the warmth of her cot more now than ever. She could hardly imagine how Marquelorn must feel.  
  
"Luciae. I've brought you fresh meat."  
  
Luciae, the name of the Elezen woman who stood fore them now smiled slightly before shaking her head.  
  
"If you would, present my troop to Jantellot and show them to their quarters. I'm sure he'll delight at their arrival," Carter continued, displaying what Hin'a thought was a bit of a sarcastic tone among his words, "I loathe to see him. I shall take my leave."  
  
Luciae smirked at the man before her eyes settled on the group, arms clasped behind her back.  
  
"Hungry, are we?"  
  
Their only response was their vigorous nods.  
  
  
After they had all become settled in the garrison, the nine of them gathered around a circular table waiting a bit impatiently for their meal. Two fireplaces kept the small room warm, a large, round table and several chairs seeming to be the only furniture the room held.

To the left of Hin'a sat Marquelorn, who was slouched lazily over the table with his arms crossed, eyes darting from the door to the kitchen to a portrait of a man that hung plainly on the wall. Hin’a took this time to examine who sat to the right of her: a relatively short elezen woman with weary and tired eyes, reflectant of Hin'a's own. She smiled gently at the girl.  
  
"I'm Hin'a," She offered, her hand coming out between them and prompting itself before hers. The girl looked up at her with shock, blinking wildly before releasing an awkward giggle, taking her hand within her own.  
  
"Ibritte," She replied. "I meant to introduce myself earlier, but, well, I..." Her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry. I'm not used to being around so many strangers."  
  
"No?" Hin'a wondered if the elezen was an outsider like herself, "Where are you from?"  
  
Confusion tied together the features of her face before she understood the question, and replied, albeit flatly. "Born and raised in Ishgard." She seemed insulted by Hin'a's assumption. "However, I led a fairly sheltered life 'til recently. I... well, I've not left Ishgard in at least 20 years."  
  
Despite her young and dainty appearance, Hin'a was startled to hear that she was older than herself. She certainly didn't look it.  
  
"What did you do? Before becoming a knight, I mean."  
  
"I was a servant of House Haillenarte. However, desperate times have deemed a... draft of knights necessary."  
  
Hin'a blinked, not understanding.  
  
"A draft?"  
  
"Yes." Ibritte replied with a forlorn expression, "I was summoned by messenger to be immediately enlisted."  
  
Hin'a couldn't place the sadness that fell upon her shoulders.  
  
"That's unfortunate." She conjured.  
  
"Ah- well." Ibritte faced the swinging door to the kitchen, avoiding Hin'a's penetrating gaze. "Such is life."  
  
A dozen questions swirled through Hin'a's mind at this revelation, and she cursed her ignorance. She hadn’t realized servants were permitted to rank among the Temple Knights, nonetheless be drafted into service. She simply assumed everyone here was here because they wanted to beー because they wanted to fight for Ishgard. Discomfort twirled itself into a tiny spring at her core as she unpacked the realities of such a story. Were the Temple Knights more in need of soldiers than she had previously thought? What were the majority of the Temple Knights then, if not passionate protectors like herself that wanted more than anything to serve Ishgard?  
  
Before she could ask anything more Luciae burst into the room, serving trays adorned on either arm. She set them before the group and raised the lids, revealing a heap of meat, vegetables, and potatoes. A quiet hum of awe and approval echoed through the room before Hin'a jumped to her feet to grab a plate.

  
After dinner they were herded to their quarters, Hin'a's curiosity in the identity of Jantellot going unsated by the end of the night upon learning that the leader of the Convictors was due to return the next morning following the brief day trip he had taken to Tailfeather. She thought bitterly about how they had just missed one another but understood she would meet her primary commander tomorrow.  
Hin'a lie in her cot beside Marquelorn's staring at the ceiling with an excitement she could hardly express with the individuals around her so bitterly following orders in taking their post here. Despite the circumstances, Hin’a still managed to feel enthusiastic about the days ahead.  Marquelorn's quiet voice interrupted her thoughts.  
  
"You've an accent, Hin'a," He started to the left of her. She could see the faint beginnings of a smile through the darkness in the room.  
  
"An accent?"  
  
"Yes. It's close to... to Sharlayan, almost. But Dravanian."  
  
"I wonder why that’d be...?" She resisted the urge to lightly whack the elezen with her arm.  
  
"It's different. It's nice," He hummed, closing his eyes while facing her. Hin'a allowed herself a pleased smile due to the concealment of the dark and merely closed her eyes, resting her palms on her chest. Much to her dismay, she almost immediately fell peacefully asleep.

 

-

 

Morning greeted her with a coldness unlike ever before. She squirmed uncomfortably in her cot, desperate for refuge from the chill, curling into a tight ball beneath her blankets. She shut her eyes tightly, quietly urging sleep to overcome her. After all efforts proved futile, she laid wide awake, listening to the quiet hum of the winds outside. Eventually, following several moments of internal conflict, she sat upwards and slid out of her bed, wriggling into a pair of leggings and trousers and layering a tank top and several undershirts beneath the Temple Knight’s garb: light chainmail and armor to insulate her body temperature. She wrapped a long and heavy cloak around her body to assist in protection from the cold. Then, stepping quietly around the beds of the other trainees, she exited their quarters.

The cold that encompassed her as soon as she left the small stone building rendered her breathless. She took a moment to adjust to the dramatic temperature change before taking her first step into the cold, her gaze rising from the white plateau before her in search of the light of the sun. There, to the far east was a sliver of it shining from behind the mountaintops and beyond the horizon. She released a sigh of relief and started for the circle of wooden stools and boxes set around a fire pit, kneeling with purpose before the tiny flickering light that she understood would die without a knight’s prompt tending.

After feeding the flame dry kindling and lumber she found stored within the small kitchen beside the dining hall, she sat back on her heels in admiration of the flame that now surged to life, blazing back and forth with the breath of the wind.

“Nicely done,” A voice boomed from behind her. Hin’a nearly leapt to her feet in surprise, stumbling back against one of the wooden boxes propped behind her. She stuttered over her words as her eyes hesitantly climbed the distinctly elezen figure behind her. He was a tall, lanky man with light brown hair that was slicked back behind his long, pointed ears, thin eyebrows lifted in interest at Hin’a’s presence. _This man is not a recruit_ , she confirmed, with the look of authority that shone in the way he gazed down at Hin’a and the long, slightly silvery sideburns that lined his face.

“Most recruits can hardly toss a block of wood, let alone start a fire,” The man repeated, snapping Hin’a out of her stupefaction.  

“I- well, I…” She slowly rose to her feet, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “It’s cold.”

“Aye, you may say that again,” The elezen agreed, taking a seat on a stool beside the box Hin’a had chosen as her own. She shifted uncomfortably on the box before settling into the silence, stealing another glance at the man who sat in an abnormally tranquil state beside her, eyes closed as if he _relished_ the morning chill. Eventually his eyes opened and rested upon her own. “I assume you’re one of Carter’s recruits?”

Hin’a blinked once before responding, “Yes ser. Hin’a Lo’vehl, from Tailfeather,”

“Tailfeather, eh?” The man looked back out at the horizon, lifting a flask to his lips. “I’m Jantellot.”

Hin’a did her best to collect herself, realizing now that her commander in the coming weeks was the seemingly pleasant man beside her.

“I understand you are to be my mentor in these coming weeks?” She mused, following his eyes to the horizon as the sun slowly ascended the arch of the mountains. Janetellot merely nodded before rising at once from his position and gazing down at her with his arms folded across his chest.

“You seem capable enough, care to get a headstart to the brutes?” He offered, motioning for Hin’a to rise as well. She stood up, nodding energetically.

“See for yourself what life is like for us Convictors.” He started, tilting his head as he gestured meekly around at the camp, “The Dravanian Horde is stronger than you might expect. Unless you've been at it for years─like I have─I think it prudent to start with something simple and then work your way up to dragons. I suggest rheums. Slay three of those, then come back here. Consider it a warm-up!” With a small smile, he retired into the dining hall, waving his hand at her before disappearing completely from behind the door.

She exhaled in relief once he departed, and turned once again to survey the vast, empty lands that lay before her.

_Duty calls._


End file.
